Lessons Learned
by claire-kay
Summary: Just because you find the strength to walk away, doesn't mean you'll find the strength to move on. Craig lives with what could have been. John Paul lives stuck in the past.
1. Chapter 1

Craig had been in Dublin for exactly a month. And it had been on that day when he realised that it was the last place in the world he wanted to be. Even since he stepped off the plane there had been a feeling growing inside of him, festering away telling him that this wasn't what he wanted. After all that time of planning, of preparing for this moment. It all seemed irrelevant.

The one good thing he had managed to find in his life he had let walk away. Or had he pushed him away? Or was any of this his fault? He had tried to make sense of the moments that only happened as he watched John Paul walk out of his life. He had thought about everything John Paul had said, remembering every last word he had spoke. He wished that he could have an argument against them, but anything he attempted to think seemed lame in comparison.

John Paul had been right. He didn't know who he was. He thought maybe he did. But as he had got on that plane, as he had found his seat and sat down and then watched the view out the window grow further and further away, watched the plane pull him away from John Paul forever, a feeling that he was completely lost and alone overwhelmed him, and he sat quietly crying to himself.

_How long can we wait here to say goodbye? - __The words once they're spoken are words that we can't take back to where we were, before things got in the way_

He cried for the loss of a love that he had come to hold so close to him. For a love that had taken him completely out of himself, made him feel and think things that he had never even imagined possible before. He sat crying for the loss of an identity that he had been clinging onto for so long, the "Craig Dean" everyone knew was no longer there. Too much had happened, too much had changed. He could never be that person again, not even if he tried. Sometimes amidst all the lies with him and John Paul, he had prayed for time to go backwards, to start from a point before everything had changed, he would think up different ways in which things had happened, but every time he found himself pulled away from those thoughts by reality creeping its way back in. A phone call from Sarah, a text message from John Paul. And again Craig found himself lost in a situation he was unable to control.

He did deserve this. He did deserve John Paul walking away. What had he ever done to be worthy of John Paul loving him? He had lied to him time and time again, hurt him. He had seen that he was hurting him and yet still did it, his own fear over powering any regret he might have felt for betraying John Paul. And he did it all with such ease. He didn't even have to try, it all came so easy to him to be able to lie to John Paul, to Sarah and his family. He never would of found the courage to tell anyone about him and John Paul, he would have got on the plane like normal with the lies still hidden, leaving John Paul and the secret they shared behind, leaving John Paul to deal with it by himself.

_Life gets so confusing when you know what you're loosing_

The anger that he felt at John Paul for outing him like that had faded away quickly. He tried to put himself in John Paul' position. He remembered how he felt when he had watched John Paul with Spike, watched the two of them together, and how a sickness would always rise in his stomach, and a pain would clench his heart. And then he tried to imagine what it would have been like to have been lied to again and again by someone who says they love you, to be fed lines of promises that didn't amount to anything, and he realised that he couldn't be angry at John Paul, because Craig had been the one who had driven him to that point. Made him feel like he had no other option.

He heard a knocking on his door. He ignored it, like he had been for the past two nights. _Jamie_. He heard her voice calling through the door. Telling him to open the door. That he had to come out tonight. He could hear other people in the corridor muttering. Sometimes he wished he hadn't given up the flat he had to move into student accommodation. But the place haunted him. From the moment he stepped inside and found the note addressed to him and John Paul from the land lord, he knew there would be no escaping John Paul there. Even though John Paul would never step foot in there, he would never see be part of life they had planned, he still lingered in the place everywhere. In the kitchen where they would have eaten together, talked about what they had planned for the day ahead, coming home at night and telling each other about their day. The lounge where they would have sat at night, wrapped up together, a place for them to escape from the outside world. The bedroom where they would have made love, and slept in each others arms. All of it full of memories of what could have been, dreams left unfulfilled, wishes never granted. He had only been there a week when he arranged to move into halls.

The room he sat in was dark and cold. A bed, desk, wardrobe and bedside cabinet were all what kept him company. There was no life in the room, no love shown to it, the walls still as blank as the day he had arrived. But even this was better than the feeling he had felt in that flat. He would feel empty wherever he was. But being there had been too much. Too much a reminder of what could have been if only he had been braver.

_You - me - why can't we see that there's more to love than we'll ever know - sometimes you're closer when you're letting go_

He was sure after a while the pain he felt would fade. But it still felt as fresh as it did the day at that airport. He thought that after being here a while he would start to feel at home and comfortable, but that feeling had not happened. And now he felt for sure that it would never come. That this is what he was supposed to feel. _Deserved_ to feel. He lay back on the cold, hard bed, the window that was open above his head let in a small draft and Craig pulled the duvet over his body, enjoying the feeling of the warmth on his body. He looked to clock that hung on the wall. It was only 10pm. _10pm. _It was Friday night and Craig was a student and he found himself curled up in his bed, tired, always so tired, and dreaming of a life that would never exist to him. He closed his eyes as sleep over took him. He tried his best to fight the feeling, as he did most nights, as he tried to stop the dreams that haunted him.

The dreams where he found himself back in Hollyoaks. In the centre of the village. Everyone there. His family. _Everyone. _All eyes on him. Whispering about him. And he would feel panicked and look around for a way out of there, but only seeing that anyway he could escape was blocked off. He could the panic only getting worse, his heart beating faster, his breathe quickening, sinking to his knees and covering his face in his hands. Then he would feel a hand touch his own. Resting lightly on top of it pulling it away from his face. He would feel two hands wrap tightly round his and pull him to his feet and into a hug that made him feel like everything else had dissolved away. There was no Hollyoaks village. No family. No one. Just him and John Paul. Holding onto one another for dear life. And almost as he had just felt the arms of John Paul wrap round him, they were gone again. And now he was on the outside looking in. Looking at John Paul standing alone in Hollyoaks Village. All eyes on _him._Judging him. And Craig tried to fight through the people, he tried to fight his way in, but every time he found himself get slightly closer he was pulled back again, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get to John Paul. He could see the tears falling down John Paul's face, he could see the sadness in his eyes, but still could not get to him. His strength fading every time he tried.

_We'll both regret the hurting that we will do - you'll learn to forget me and I'll try , I'll try to forget..._

And every time at that point Craig would wake up. Tears falling down his face. To start with he had feared going to sleep. Knowing that the dream would come. That it would wake him up, leaving him feeling empty. But now he welcomed it. He welcomed that one moment in the dream where he had John Paul in his arms again. He remembered every moment of the feeling of having John Paul's arms wrapped around him, his head resting into his neck. The dream was worth it. The pain he felt after was worth it. As long as he never forgot. He never forgot what he and John Paul had, what made them so special. Even if no one would ever understand that, at least he did. He knew what it felt like to be loved completely, to have someone want you in spite of all your flaws. To be able to look past them and see the potential of what was truly inside.

Craig pulled the covers off him and stood up from the bed. He looked out his window at the view below. The groups of people all going for their night out. All the people living their life. He wondered how many of them had been where he had. A broken heart that seemed unable to be fixed. He knew there was no going back, but at moments like this when he felt more alone than ever before. He thought about it. He actually allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to walk back into that place. To try and make things right. But he knew he was kidding himself. There was no way he could be able to do that, not now. He had to accept that this is where he was now. That this was... _is_ his life. And John Paul had a point. He had lost himself in everything that had happened. And now he had to figure out who he was, who he wanted to be. Only then could he ever love someone completely. And he knew he wouldn't find it in this room. Locking himself away. Because the answers weren't here. All Craig had was his old memories, and he knew he had to learn that instead of letting them haunt him, he had to remember them and take them with him. Use them and help them on the way to becoming the person he was going to be.

I_f you ever need a place that you can run to I'll be here_

He had never felt worthy. Never of anyone that loved him, anyone that cared for him. And he needed to change that. He needed to be the kind of person that they had seen in him, because up until now he hadn't. He had been hiding away and being weak, and he was tired of feeling that way. He was tired of feeling alone. He reached for his phone on his bedside cabinet, and glanced at the picture sitting beside him. He picked it up and ran his finger across the blonde mans face, and for the first time in a month he smiled at the picture, he smiled at the face of the man he had loved more than anything.

_I wish the best for you_


	2. Chapter 2

**The next part of this is John Paul's journey since Craig left till now. My version anyhow.**

* * *

John Paul felt a slight feeling of satisfaction. Most days he found himself waking up from a nightmare. His breathing panicked, sweating, clinging onto his covers as he jumped up out of bed. Today had not been one of those days. He had opened his eyes slowly, waiting a minute before sitting up in bed, before looking around the room. He raised his hand to his chest to feel his heart, the easy pace of it almost feeling strange. He knew why the nightmares came. Why they were haunting him. Why he couldn't seem to shake them

It was because more than anyone around him realised. He was losing the fight. Ever since that day. He had been losing at the game he was playing with himself. He can still remember everything so clearly about that day. How everything had started so perfectly. Almost too perfect, like a dream. Like something you have been waiting to happen for so long, and it's finally there in front of you, the dream you wanted slowly becoming a reality.

But what he remembers more than anything else was his fear. He had woken early that morning. The desperation to hear Craig's voice was consuming him, and he had lay in bed for what felt like hours, waiting for the darkness to turn into light. Waiting for their future to start. Even the moment he saw Craig, he had expected the fear to dissolve away, but it only fuelled the feeling more. It growing stronger and stronger with each word Craig said, with each time he would push John Paul's hand away, or brush off any touch or show of affection John Paul gave him.

_Hello world hope you're listening forgive me if I'm young for speaking out of turn_

"_Things will be different when we get to Dublin_" Those words haunted John Paul that day. Even now, haunting him still. Then for different reasons, then for the fear, that when they got to Dublin nothing would have changed at all. Everything would have been exactly the same. New places to hide, new people to lie too. But still the same old lies. Now the words haunted him with what could have been. The chance that Craig had meant every single word, that truly when they got to Dublin it would have been about the two of them. Their new life together. The things that he would never know.

John Paul was_losing. _Everyone else around him was carrying on with their lives. And he was playing along. Keeping up the pretence that everything was okay. He had college, and he was doing well with his DJing now more than ever. Throwing himself into anything he could. Anything to avoid the chance of having to stop and think back on the past 5 months. As far as everyone was concerned John Paul was fine. He had moved on. But they didn't know anything.

What had surprised him most was how when he came back, everyone seemed to carry on as if nothing much had changed at all. How everyone just carried on as normal. When he walked back through the door, tears streaming down his face, all eyes on him, questioning what had happened, they had their answer, their faces looked unsurprised and had just continued on with their lives. Explaining that was exactly he had to do as well. That this was for the best, that they never liked Craig anyway.

They didn't even know Craig. For about a month after he left, John Paul wondered if he had ever known Craig either. If any of it between them had ever been real. He sunk lower and lower, the thoughts of their past haunting him all the time. Every corner he turned, a person or place would flash something in his mind and Craig would be there. And no one seemed to understand. They kept talking about Craig being gone. But for John Paul he wasn't. He had never left. He was still everywhere in the village. Still in his house. In his room. He couldn't escape from it.

_There's someone I've been missing I think that they could be the better half of me_

By the time December came he felt for sure he had his act perfected. No one was any the wiser. He smiled and played along. Even made some new friends. But it wasn't the same. He kept comparing them to the friend he had lost, the friendship that had changed his life. And it was nothing. Nothing compared to that and when he received a text message from Craig on Christmas day, he wondered if he would ever be able to move on from any of it. He saw the look Carmel gave him as he read the message. He tried to take in what the message said and still look at Carmel as if everything was okay. In that moment he knew his wall had been broken down momentarily. But he put it back up straight away. Putting the phone away and focusing on his family. It was half an hour later that John Paul cried for Craig Dean again. He left his family in the happy cloud of their Christmas dinner and escaped to his room, using any excuse he could think of.

He had no idea what triggered the reaction. He had stood in his living room hundreds of times. With Craig. Without him. But as he heard everyone laughing watched the smiles on their faces, he felt a sickness in his stomach. He wasn't happy. He didn't want to laugh. He wanted to get away from any place that held any memories of Craig Dean. But nothing released him from it. As he slammed his door shut that Christmas day, he turned to look around the room. Every part of it a constant reminder. He had pulled posters of the wall that day, thrown books off his desk, moved anything that was in the same place it had been when Craig was there. To test himself, to see if it made a difference. But as he closed his eyes all he saw was Craig's face. All he saw were the times they had shared. He sadly put everything back as it was. Resigned to the fact that it didn't matter what he did.

_They're in their own place trying to make it right but I'm tired of justifying_

By January the anger had become the front emotion. Alone he found himself cursing at the text message Craig had sent. The message that was still saved on his phone. The one that no one else knew about. Reading it out loud, trying to imagine Craig as he sat there typing it. Did he have to put a lot of thought into it? Did he have the courage to send it straight away? Was he feeling half the pain writing it that John Paul felt when he read it? He felt as though he was living in a daze, the whole world spinning past him so quickly and he was alone in the centre of it, powerless and alone. He could see himself withdrawing further from people. Especially his family. Trapping himself away in his room to hide from the constant gazes and questions.

And now it was February. Cold and miserable. And the days were still as hard as they had been five months ago. Perhaps even harder now, as his thoughts lingered to Craig's life in Dublin. How he had to constantly hear from Frankie and Jake that he was doing so well. That he was happy. The emotions all seemed to blend into one. It would start with him cursing Craig and his happy new life, then the anger would turn on himself and be so consumed with it, he would violently hit the walls. Then the tears came again. As the memories of when things were good would creep into his mind. He would look over to the bed that he had Craig had lay in together, so complete and lost in one another, oblivious to anything outside of the two of them.

He would look at the desk, and the chair where Craig had sat a countless number of times. It was like a routine. He would look across the whole room, taking in each thing, living each memory again in his mind. And then finally he would make his way to the wardrobe and pull out the cardigan that had found itself in John Paul's bag that day. He would pull it out and raise it to his face, breathing the scent in heavily. At first the smell of Craig had lingered on it. It bought even more memories flooding back, how he looked in it, how no one else could look as good as he could in it. But after a while the smell faded. It wasn't Craig any more. It just started to smell of his own clothes. Sometimes if he tried hard enough, if he wished enough and closed his eyes tightly enough he would think he could still smell him.

_Everything I can't be is everything you should be and that's why i need you here_

But it was gone. And so was Craig. And he was happy. And John Paul was miserable and clinging onto something that had died so many months ago. But moving on wasn't something he craved. He didn't want to get over it. He needed Craig more than he had ever needed anything. And the thought of actually getting over what happened terrified him and depressed him more than the feeling he had now.

The room was still slightly dark, the light just flickering through the curtain. John Paul smiled to himself slightly. No nightmare. Not today. It was always the same. He was always wandering alone. Looking for Craig. The panic in his chest rising more and more as his search failed. And then at the last moment. He would see Craig. Laughing. Happy. The panic grew stronger as he saw that Craig was better off without him. Happy without him. And then he would wake up. But this night. There was nothing. The satisfaction in it didn't last long, as the thoughts that he was letting it go crept in. He had been trying so hard to hold onto it. Torturing himself, making sure that he would never forget the pain he caused. He didn't want to let it go. He couldn't.

_Come home cause I've been waiting for you for so long_

It was at that moment that John Paul realised he wasn't losing. He had _lost_. He had walked away from the one person he needed more than anything, and worse than that he had thrown all the blame on that person. He had used excuse after excuse as to why none of this was his fault. He had so easily blamed Craig for everything. When the truth was he was then and still was completely afraid. He knew going with Craig that day would have been the start of a new life. The start of a life that would have been for keeps, there would have been no going back. And Craig wanted that. But John Paul was too afraid to take that chance. The fear of being hurt and not being enough over powering any rational thought he had.

_Right now there's a war between the vanities but all I see is you and me_

He knew Craig loved him. He believed in that more than anything. So why hadn't it been enough? Why hadn't he just put his faith in that love? Was it so he could live the life he was now? Miserable and alone, locked away from everyone in his life, going over the past in his mind again and again.

He had closed himself off too far now. He was literally locked away from everyone. Living in a world full of past memories, refusing to go forward with anything. And the one person who could save him from it, the one person to pull him out of it, was gone.

_The fight for you is all I've ever known_


	3. Chapter 3

The act of moving on hadn't been as hard as Craig imagined it would be. The first month in Dublin had been long and hard, with constant reminders of a life that once was. Even in the months that followed after, there were still moments, no matter how fleeting, still moments that held him in the same place he had been that September. Still looked away in a love that terrified and consumed him. But then something would happen and he would find himself being pulled out of those thoughts. A new friend he had made bringing him back to the reality he had now, his life he was living now finding its way back in. After a while, the moments of remembering faded and happened less. He found himself thrown into his classes. Thrown into a life that he hadn't seen coming.

And it all started with something so simple as a phone call.

He sat on his bed alone that night, clutching onto the picture of him and John Paul. Holding onto a life that he couldn't seem to let go of. His phone in his other hand, skimming through the names, desperately searching for his. When he found it he let his thumb hover over the button to call him. Something that was so easy to do, seemed like the hardest task.

The struggle within him was all consuming. He couldn't think of anything else other than the thought of hearing his voice, of that somehow making them close again. His thumb fell away, and the picture held his attention again. He didn't put it away in the drawer that night, but it would soon find its home there. Hidden away under a pile of books, but in that moment its fate was still undecided.

The sound of his phone that night had startled him from his thoughts. For a moment before he looked at his phone, he wondered if John Paul had been sat there thinking the same thing. That he had wanted to call, only he had been brave enough to follow through.

He glanced down at the phone. The name flashing on the screen almost unfamiliar to him.

Luke.

He knew he should recognise the name, it sparked a familiarity, but he couldn't seem to remember exactly who he was. He had lived in halls for 3 weeks now, there were so many names and faces, so many people talking to him. Jamie, the one friend he had managed to make, the one person who seemed to want to talk to him for some bizarre reason had introduced him to so many different people. He had heard their names and smiled at them politely, but never really took any of it in at all. He hoped that it would have gone unnoticed to Jamie, but seemed very stubborn, and she insisted or questioning all the time. He managed to stay vague, up until that moment.

He tried to go through everyone he had met. Why anyone else would have his number. Why he would have someone from here stored into his phone. The ringing wasn't stopping, the noise irritating him. He pressed the button quickly answering.

"Craig. It's Jamie"

Craig shut his eyes and rubbed them with his free hand. He knew what was coming next.

"I'm waiting for you downstairs. I am not taking no for an answer"

"Whose Luke?"

"He lives with us Craig. You had a whole conversation with him last week. The most I've heard you talk while you've been here I think"

"I'm not coming out tonight Jamie. I don't want to"

Craig sighed heavily. "Actually yeah you are"

He could feel himself getting irritated even more. The sound of her voice already triumphant with victory. He looked around the small room. It seemed to hit him more than anything that night. That he really had nothing to keep him here locked away. Even as he looked down at the photograph, a feeling of being torn. Like if he left the flat that night and tried to move on, it would some how make him even further away from John Paul.

But the distance between them was already there. What exactly was he holding onto? Nothing more than a ghost of who he used to be. He could never go back to that now anyway. And as he heard Jamie continue to talk to him down the phone, her voice and words clearly sensing that there was something more to his reasons for wanting to avoid people, he realised that he didn't want to go back to that.

"What are you holding onto Craig?"

Those words hit him harder than anything. They rung through his head over and over again as he searched to find an answer. But he couldn't. Because he didn't know. He had no idea what was happening back there, he had no way to know if John Paul was going through as much pain as he was, maybe he had moved on already, perhaps Craig was the only one still holding on.

He found himself cutting her off , telling her he would be down in a few minutes. He changed quickly, without even giving it any thought. And he found himself greeted by her and they boy he now remembered. He allowed himself one last look up at the window before they started to walk down the road. They lived fairly close to town, enough to walk straight into the busiest part.

That night had been the first night since he arrived in Dublin that he had felt remotely alive. That he had smiled, and laughed, allowed himself to have fun. The first night when Hollyoaks, or John Paul hadn't been the constant thing that ran through his mind.

Then it seemed out of nowhere, like he hadn't even realised, the days he was counting turned to weeks, and they turned to months, he was in the middle of a life that he hadn't expected, one that he had unwillingly excepted as his fate, and now he couldn't imagine anything else. He dared to even think it, but he was happy.

Now as he sat in the room that once held him prisoner, held memories of so many nights in here talking with Jamie, sitting up all night with Luke, happy memories that he would keep forever, the only thing that terrified it, that he found so hard to accept, was that he had never felt a happiness like this before.

There had been moments before when he had felt a small part of it. The times alone with John Paul, but even then it had been a strange contentment, the weight of knowing what was facing him after he left John Paul always weighing on his mind, leaving it some what bittersweet. Perhaps it was only now he could realise how beautiful it had been. And that fact, one that only a few months ago would have devastated him to the core, that fact now made a part of the happiness he felt now. Every day living his life.

The other thing that held his fears was if John Paul was okay. He remembers one night near Christmas, he was feeling fairly nostalgic, mostly everyone had gone home to their families, leaving only him and Luke in halls. Luke had insisted on going out and getting drunk, and celebrating Christmas in true style. As the day had worn on, and they had wandered from pub to pub. Craig could feel his mind wandering back to Hollyoaks, wondering what everyone else was doing, how they all were. He remembered staring at his phone practically all day, before Luke had practically shouted at him across the table to call or text whoever it was that held him so captivated so they could move on and enjoy Christmas.

Luke had no idea how that statement affected Craig, he hadn't meant the moving on in that context but for Craig it meant more than just the next pub, it meant showing John Paul that he was okay, hopefully getting a response to know that he was okay, and also the amount of alcohol in his system had most definitely had an effect.

So he sent him a text. It didn't say much. But it said enough. And he got no reply. He wasn't surprised. It gave him some closure. It helped close the door a bit further. It helped him move on.

"Craig..."

He looked down at the text book in front of him that he was supposed to be studying from. And then to the door, he smiled when he saw Luke standing in the doorway holding a cup of coffee.

"Here... thought you might need it" He smiled as he entered the room and placed it on the side "Oh and answer that damn phone of yours... have you not heard it ringing every five minutes..."

"Thanks..." Craig looked on his bed and heard his phone ringing. He had been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn't even heard it. Looking down to the screen, all it said was out of area. Without even thinking he answered quickly.

"Craig... is that you?"

The voice was familiar, but something in his mind wasn't quite registering. Like he couldn't believe that the person was on the phone talking to him. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out, and the person spoke once again.

"Craig? Are you there? It's me Myra..."

"Yeah... erm... Yeah I am here... what..."

Craig heard Myra let out a heavy sigh, he could swear he heard her crying, and a chatter of people in the background. Suddenly a panic ran through him. Why would Myra be calling him? Why would she be so upset? John Paul.

"Myra. Is everything okay? What's happened?"

Craig was up out of his chair and pacing across his room, it suddenly felt so small in there like there was no air.

"Is he there Craig? Is he with you?"

"What..."

"I didn't know what else to do. It's been two days. The police have been looking, I wasn't going to call, but you were all I could think of, the only place I thought he might go..."

Myra's voice cut off and broke, her sobbing growing louder now. He could hear a shuffling on the phone and then another voice. "Craig? It's me Mercedes. Look if his there, tell him its okay, we aren't angry, we just want to know his safe..."

"Mercedes... whats going on? What the hell has happened? He isn't here. Why would he be here?"

Craig waited for what he felt like was forever. Another heavy sigh from down the phone line.

"Craig. John Paul's gone. His been missing for two days. He left his phone here. All his stuff. No one knows where he is"


	4. Chapter 4

**_Six Months Later_**

John Paul McQueen was barely recognisable. Even now to himself as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror that hung behind the spirits and bottles in the bar he now found himself working in. His once light blonde hair fell across his forehead, down almost covering his eyes, the colour different now, darker. His face covered in a stubble which he neglected for a few days. His eyes that could once give him away were glazed over now. The brightness the had once held completely burnt out and replaced with a deep dark blue, matched with heavy eyelids, late nights and few hours of sleep taking the blame.

He continued to work without even thinking about what he was doing, like clock work. Like he had every night since he got here. He could faintly here the sound of the people in the bar behind him, people laughing, talking, living. It wasn't enough to pull him out of his concentration. He had learnt after only a few nights that blocking out such sounds was easier than he had anticipated. At first there had been a resentment towards them, an anger that they were happy and laughing, alive. That they found pleasure in such a small thing as this, as being here, when he couldn't find happiness in anything.

_One hand on this wily comet - take a drink just to give me some weight,  
Some uber-man I'd make, I'm barely a vapor_

That feeling of resentment soon melted away, and in its place became nothing. No feelings towards them, they were just there. Another smiling face, another drunken smile, they all looked the same to him now.

Even the sound of the music wasn't enough to catch his attention. Something that had once been such a big part of his life, part of who he was, had also vanished. It didn't mean anything any more. The release it gave him, the moment of happiness he felt was only a fleeting one. And when the song finished and the crowds had left, it was gone. And the realisation of the truth was crashing around him. It wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough ever again.

He looked down at the drinks he had finished and lifted all four of them swiftly off the side before turning around and placing them on the bar. Muttering a price to the drunken idiot waving a note in his face. John Paul snatched it from his hand turning around again to face the mirror. His mouth was always in the same permanent fixed place. His expression wasn't angry or irritated, it wasn't anything. It was the same it had been for as long as he could remember now.

He handed out the change to the guy staring back at him with a confused expression and then turned away. He looked out towards the streets. The doors had all been pulled open and people from the street were merging into people in the club. People seemed to be gravitating nearer to the doors, the mixture of the heat in the club and the warmth of the hot summer night taking its toll.

_They shone a chlorine light on, a host of individual sins_

John Paul unbuttoned his black shirt and threw it off onto the side, the cool air immediately hitting his shoulders, he was relieved that he had the idea to wear his white vest top tonight. He looked up and down the bar, then leant against the side, enjoying the moment of quiet.

He looked down at his co-worker, he was new, started working last night. He was clearly panicked by the busy Saturday night, frantically running back and forth looking for things, every now and then throwing a pleading look to John Paul for help. To which every one John Paul ignore. There were always new people here, people with a story to tell. How they had come to London to start over, to do something with their lives. And they always wanted to share the story with John Paul, even when he hadn't asked, even when he looked disinterested. He soon learnt that it wasn't that they wanted to share their exciting plans, its that they wanted to validate them, they wanted to convince themselves more than anything that they hadn't made a mistake. But John Paul could tell, this one, like so many before wouldn't last. He would realise, like the rest, that there is nothing here to be found. No better life. No miracle waiting to happen. This is all there is. And in comparison what they had was so much better.

_Let's carve my aging face off, fetch us a knife, start with my eyes,  
Down so the lines, form a grimacing smile_

John Paul knew he could see this so clearly for them, because he was the exact opposite. He knew what was waiting for him back where he had escaped. And for him it was worse. Much much worse. The pain had faded as the months passed, the longer he had been away. The moment he accepted that he had lost his fight, the moment he faced the reality that returning to a time when he felt anything was gone, it became easier to deal with just those things. The answer seemed so clear to him, like it had been there all along and he had just been too stupid to see it.

Remove the memories. If everywhere he went was a constant reminder, then remove it. He had realised just that as he walked through the village how ever many months ago. He watched everyone living their lives, caught up in their own problems, some of them happy, some of them as tortured as he was, but they all seemed to have one thing that he didn't. Someone standing by their side. He remembered stopping in the middle of the village, immediately being taken back to a memory of Craig Dean. They had stood here once. His family. Craig's family. All of them staring at one another. The worlds crashing together and arguing and shouting. But it wasn't any of those things that stood out. It was just him. His face as the sun hit it, his eyes squinting slightly but desperately not wanting to break the connection they had. It was like it had all dissolved away, and all there was left was _him._

_Close your eyes to corral a virtue is this fooling anyone else?  
Never worked so long and hard, to cement a failure_

That had been all it took to make John Paul realise he was in the wrong place. That there was nothing here for him any more but memories, that nothing could replace those not while he stayed here. He carried on walking straight threw the village, just walking. Everything else seemed like a blur. A mass of events just moulding into one, the train to London, the grotty hotel he had stayed in for a month when he first arrived, finally getting a job here. It was all just one more thing in plan he had for forgetting anything of his former life. If he took himself away from it, it would be like he never even existed in it.

_We can blow on our thumbs and posture, but the lonely is such delicate things_

"John..." He had got used to being called that now. He looked in the direction of the new boy. A struggling look across his face as a few more people had approached the bar, all of them waving money in the air, none of them looking in their direction. John Paul sighed and moved forward to the bar again. He started serving, quickly. Five to new boys one, again fewer people were at the bar, all of them mainly congregating near the doors. John Paul turned away and began tidying, he caught glimpse of himself again in the mirror.

He tried to picture himself as to what he had looked like before. Just to test himself, to see if his wish of forgetting had worked. It had. He couldn't see himself as who he used to be, all he could see now was his harsh features, and eyes that looked older now somehow. Even his physique seemed different now, like he had more weight on him, had he always been this way, he couldn't remember. He didn't want to, this was all he needed now. He closed his eyes and tested himself further. The image of two brown eyes flickered in his memory. No, that was one thing he hadn't conquered yet. The one thing he remembered more than anything was _him_. The one thing he had been fighting against, fighting to forget still the one thing that he never could.

_Still to come, the worst part and you know it,  
There is a numbness, in your heart and it's growing_

"John Paul... is that you?" He heard a shocked yell from behind him. A high pitched scream seemed to follow it. He turned to see to wide shocked eyes looking directly at him.

"John Paul McQueen"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

The blistering heat was not something Craig welcomed and the fact he had to spend the day working in the pub cooped up only made it even more unbearable. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't have Darren as company for the day, he could have dealt with it being anyone but him, even Steph and her constant chatter would have been better, but she had decided to go swanning off with Max to visit OB in London, so now here he was back home for the summer, and instead of enjoying the break from the work load of uni he was being made to work at The Dog while his Mum and Jack went out for the day.

Most people were surprised by Craig's reaction to spend his summer back in Hollyoaks, mostly because when he received a phone call six months ago from a frantic McQueen family he had all right stated that him ever going back there was out of the question, he had listened to each McQueen's pleas that night, some of them yelling, some of them quiet questioning if he knew where John Paul was. The phone call ended and he felt confused and at a lose of what to do. He began frantically packing a bag, filling it with whatever he touched first, he was interrupted by Luke asking him what he was doing, the story came out in a mumble of words, and as he retold the story to Luke, he stopped backing and sat down on his bed, completely lost in his thoughts. He realised there was no point to him going back there. What exactly could he do? Was he going to go off searching for John Paul? Was it really likely he'd ever find him? For all he knew this was exactly what John Paul wanted. Maybe he had wanted to get away from Hollyoaks, and good for him, why would anyone want to get stuck there?

He didn't do anything else that night. He sat and talked to Luke. His outburst had worried him, and he just sat on the bed listening to Craig talk. Finally telling someone the story he had held in for months, the one thing he had always been so scared to reveal to anyone all of a sudden flooding out. It all came out in one long speech, finishing exactly at the point they found themselves in. Neither of the moved away, even as the light started to shine through the window, they remained sat in silence. Luke taking in everything he had been told and Craig feeling relived with having finally told someone.

Then a few things happened all at once, Luke had jumped up off the bed and began carrying on the packing that Craig had started, a speech about how he had to go back and help, but Craig remained where he was sat. He had expected this reaction from Luke, he knew him well enough to know what his opinion on this would be, so Craig just let him carry on, too lost in his own thoughts. Then Craig's phone rang, the words Mum flashing on the screen, he sighed and figured this phone call would happen. At the time he had assumed that she'd be calling to make sure he wasn't doing anything stupid like getting on a plane and coming back and interrupting his studies. But what he got was the complete opposite. He listened as she spoke calmly, telling him that Myra had been to see her that morning, telling her that they got a phone call from John Paul saying he was okay, but still refusing to say where he was.

Craig wasn't surprised, he didn't know why, but he almost expected it from John Paul. He tried to understand why he would just do that without even giving his family any kind of reason. Above everything else John Paul loved his family, he protected them. The leaving part hadn't surprised him, just how he done it.

He listened to his Mum intently as she started to re-tell Myra's visit to her. How John Paul hadn't been the same for months, at first he seemed okay, in fact he always seemed just okay. He got up and went to class and did everything that he should be doing. But that's all it was, there was no passion or drive for any of it, he would smile and talk when spoken to, but most of the time he would just sit there taking everyone else in. He just wasn't the same anymore. Then the night before he left, Myra and his family had convinced him to go out for a drink, to The Dog, a place he had apparently been avoiding for months, Craig's Mum gave a long pause, clearly wanting Craig to take in the significance, to make sure he understood the reason to all of this. She continued after no reply, letting out a small sigh before explaining how she had been working that night, that the pub had been busy, that in the corner Sarah, Hannah and Nancy sat, three people who John Paul had gone out of his way to avoid, he didn't try to talk to them, he didn't try to explain and he never made eye contact with any of them. But they still looked at him in the same cold way, glaring him down as he sat quietly while his family chatted animatedly.

Everything else had apparently been a massive blur, the McQueen girls not known for the quiet behavior caught on to the glances being cast in John Paul's direction, even as his sisters questioned him, he said nothing, which seemed to lead to Mercedes and Jacqui going over to confront the three of them. Craig couldn't help but smile at the image, he could just imagine now Jacqui and Mercedes telling Sarah, Nancy and Hannah what they thought. He had stopped listening to his Mum, who was now telling how Tina had managed to quieten them all done, but when they went back to their table, John Paul was gone.

A silence filled the room, as Luke looked at him, bag in hand, waiting expectantly for what to do next. He knew his Mum was waiting for some kind of response. That she was expecting something from him. Before he could speak, she had told him that she thought he should come home. The conversation that had followed had been simple. John Paul walked away from him at the airport. He had left him there to start a life they were meant to start together, he had gone his own way, he had let go of Craig. Was Craig still supposed to be holding on? Because he wasn't anymore. It had taken him months to get over it, to finally feel like he could actually live this new life, that he deserved it. John Paul made a decision. Whatever affects he was feeling from that decision now were, Craig couldn't take responsibility for. This was John Paul's decision. It was the ending they had got. The ending he had secured, and never once gave Craig any hope after that it could be anything ever again. He told his Mum calmly, that he was not coming home.

The tone in his voice must have given everything away because she didn't argue the decision, she wished him love and then the line went dead. Luke didn't argue either, he just placed the bag down on the floor and left Craig alone.

As he looked around the half empty pub now, he couldn't remember the reason why he had even agreed to this. He looked at the faces around the bar, some new, some recognisable and felt a sudden dread, he had only been back a few days. So avoiding people had not been an issue. But now here he was behind the bar almost waiting for the next person to walk through the door, a fear rising his chest as to who it would be.

"Are you deaf or something?" Darren tapped him on the shoulder, an annoyed expression and phone in his hand "Steph's on the phone for you" He handed Craig the phone and then turned away "Come back from Dublin expecting everything..."

Darren's skill for winding people up was as always on perfect form, the good thing for Craig was he seemed to have gained a shield from it over the last few months, mainly because he didn't care what Darren thought.

"Hi Steph, sorry about that..."

"Craig" Her voice sounded serious and full of concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. It's just, last night we all went out and we... we saw John Paul. His working at this bar. I barely recognised him. I spoke to him, at first he tried to ignore me I think, but I was sure it was him. Eventually I got him to speak to me. Craig... I've never seen someone so altered in my entire life. It's like his this whole other person..."

"Maybe that's what his going for"

"Craig?" He could hear the shock in her voice, almost disapproval at his comment.

"What Steph? What exactly do you want me to say? You've made your feelings about all of this clear with all the phone calls you gave me when I said I wasn't coming home when he left. What was I supposed to drop everything? Leave my life behind? Because you know what Steph I did it once for him and he walked away, I won't do that again. So you calling me and telling me you know where he is, great. But you're telling the wrong person. Maybe his family would be more interested to know"

He could tell he had shocked her into silence, which really wasn't an easy thing to do. "So you're telling me that you don't care that his a mess and broken..."

"Steph. You're telling the wrong person"

He made sure to say each word slowly, letting her take in exactly what he was saying, she sighed heavily and then the phone went dead without her even saying goodbye. He slammed the phone down on the bar, suddenly really not wanting to be in the pub. Not wanting to be anywhere near Hollyoaks. The feeling only doubling as he looked up in the doorway to see Jacqui and Mercedes McQueen staring straight at him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Stephanie Dean had re-entered John Paul's life like a bulldozer. Months of well built up walls and defences quickly breaking down with just one small conversation. He could read the disbelief that washed across her face as they spoke, how she had leant in closer to look at his face to see if it was really him. He tried to be disinterested, to look vacant as she asked him question after question, but she was too persistent. Like he always remembered her being. With the memory of her crashing back, even more flooded his memory.

Mainly one. Just one person. How could he not remember _him_ while she was here. Even as she spoke, the question was continually running through his mind. All it would take would be just to say, just to ask how he was. But he never did. He never allowed himself to go that far. If he just tried to keep up the façade, eventually like all the others that had tried to understand, she would give up.

She had hung around late the next night too. Waiting till John Paul had finished work, in a way he knew she would, she had a determination in her that didn't seem to ever fail. She waited with Max, OB and Summer, they would chat and laugh, and then sometimes their gaze would cast over in his direction, all of them concerned and questioning. It made it even harder to focus on the fact that he couldn't allow himself to think of anything back home. But images of Max and OB working at Mobs, laughing and smiling, Steph in the pub, it bought back flashes of Mercedes working there too, Carmel, Jacqui…. Everyone. He slammed the glasses fiercely down on the bar. Giving into the fact that they weren't leaving. He threw a glance to the guy who was on the bar with him so he knew he was done. Pulling his shirt off the side and grabbing the bottle of beer he had started and made his way quickly over to them, hoping to get this over and done with.

"What exactly do you want?" He slammed the bottle down on the table, pulling his shirt on. He directly the question only at Steph, because he knew this would be all her doing.

She sipped her drink innocently, not looking up to meet his eyes "Nothing. Just having a drink with my friends"

"Here?"

"Yes here"

John Paul shook his head "Fine, have a good night"

"John Paul wait!"

He had turned away, but the voice pulled him back. It wasn't Steph's. It was Summer's.

"Please, stay and have a drink. We're… we're just worried about you. We are your friends"

Friends. The word bothered him. He shattered through him. He almost felt like laughing.

"Friends? Summer, you don't even know me. I don't know why you came back here tonight. But if it's to try and talk to me, then let me tell you right now. You are wasting your time"

Steph scoffed "You sound like Craig"

The name shook through him. The reaction on his face must have been obvious. The four faces looked at him now with an understanding and a quiet sadness. He looked away. He could feel the sickness rising in his stomach. He never allowed himself to even think about him. Let alone say his name.

"Don't come back here. Leave me alone"

He turned away quickly. He needed to get outside. All he could see was the door, he just wanted to feel the fresh air hit him and he would be okay. Things would start to become clearer. He pushed open the door with such force it slammed back quickly as he got outside. He ran directly to the railings on the opposite side of the road, over looking the river, the bright lights across it seeming to brighter now than ever before. He held onto them tightly, breathing in and out. All the memories were back now. All of them of him. The nights they had spent alone in his room, lost in one another, the times before they were together when he would catch Craig looking at him, when he had put secret hope into the fact that he wasn't imagining it all. Every single moment he had with him all piling up, forcing their way back into his memory.

Then the pain came. Stabbing and real and just as harsh as the first time. All the lies and deceit and the pain he had caused. Walking away from him when he should have held on tighter than ever. The tears that had fallen down Craig's face just before John Paul walked away, each of them leaving John Paul with a feeling of regret. The way he had heard Craig through broken sobs quietly say his name, the begging in his voice as he had pleaded with him. All of it on the surface again, and there was nothing again. Nothing but the bleak pain that came from being the one to cause all of this.

"You know I never imagine myself liking it here" John Paul turned quickly. OB was leaning up against the railings, looking out across the river. "London I mean. When Summer left though, it was like, she had taken a part of me with her you know? So when I got here, when I was looking for her, nothing else really seemed to matter too much, because I knew that when I saw her, all of that other stuff would just go away, and that piece of me that was missing would be there again"

John Paul knew there was some kind of message behind it all, he knew exactly what OB was getting at, he wished he would get there faster so he could get the hell away from here.

"It won't go away you know? That feeling. I should know. You think that right now this is helping some how I'm sure. You think you're the first person to run away from your problems? But it won't just go away John Paul. You can only hide away and deny things for so long, and then they'll just come back. Maybe you made some mistakes. Perhaps you did some wrong decisions. But we all have. It's the ones we get right that matter"

John Paul sighed and gave up. He rested his head against the railings, trying to fill his lungs with air. Trying to breathe. He tried to find his voice as OB paused clearly waiting for a response.

"I can't go back there OB. I know what you're trying to do. What you're saying. But it's not the same. It's not even about mistakes or decisions anymore. I'm not… there's nothing there for me. When you left Summer, at least you got on with life yeah? You had Max and Tom and things to do, people to… when I walked away from Craig, I walked away from everything. My best friend, the person I love more than anything, my future. This is all I have now. I don't want my family to have to deal with this as well, they're better off"

"You know that's not true though?" John Paul could hear a slight anger behind OB's voice. "Yeah I had Max and Tom, they are the two people in my life I cared about more than anything, but it got to a point John Paul where I let them define me, it was all I had, and I wanted more. I could have stayed there for the rest of my life, even been happy with it, but I would have always wondered what if? What if I had been brave enough, I couldn't live like that. And you shouldn't live like this. With far too many what if's. You should go back home. Let your family decide exactly what they can be put through, just to see you again I think would make them happy. And most importantly, talk to Craig. Confront it all or live like this"

OB looked around the place he stood in a gesture to John Paul. He looked around him now, following OB's eyes. He almost felt like for the first time he was seeing this place for what it was. He had never looked that closely before. But what he saw most of all, is that there was nothing here, there were bars and flats and people with friends or family smiling and laughing, but that was their world, and this was not. He had convinced himself that there was nothing back home for him, but the truth of it had always been that there was nothing _here_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

It was as Craig sat in the unusual silence of the McQueen household, that he wished he hadn't come back home from Dublin.

He had contemplated running through the side door when he saw Mercedes and Jacqui walk in the pub, but what exactly was he going to do? Run away from them every time he saw them. Eventually he would have to speak to them, and after the phone call with Steph, there was no way they would let that slide.

He sighed heavily and looked around the room, everyone was sat in silence. Tina was sat holding onto Michaela, she was out of everyone the only one to even smile at Craig as he entered the house, he could hear Carmel in the kitchen making tea for everyone. Mercedes and Jacqui sat glaring at him, whilst Myra was frantically re-dialling Steph's number that Craig had just given her.

"Why isn't she picking up?"

Craig shifted awkwardly in his chair. Why was here, he just wanted to get up and walk away. This wasn't his problem, why was he being dragged into something that had nothing to do with him.

"Craig…" He heard Carmel speaking softly as she sat down next to him "What exactly did Steph say?"

"Erm, she just said that she saw him working in a bar. She didn't say what it was called or anything…" He turned to look at Myra who was pacing up and down, still dialling "She's probably on the train back Myra… she might not have any signal…"

"Did she say anything else, did she speak to him? How is he?" He turned back to Carmel, her voice was pleading with him for something.

He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair "I'm sorry I have to go…"

He heard Mercedes laugh bitterly "That's right, walk away. It's what you do best"

"Excuse me? If you've got something to say Mercedes just say it"

She stood up now walking towards him "I think I just did, and you know what? We wouldn't even be in this position if it weren't for you. Our John Paul would be alright…"

Craig shook his head. He had to admit, there were something's he would take the blame for, mistakes that he had made. But not this.

"You are seriously going to try and blame this on me? John Paul leaving here is not my fault. He made a choice, the same way he made a choice to leave me standing at that airport, don't any of you dare put this on me…"

"No one's trying to put this on you Craig…" He snapped his head back in the direction of Tina "… we're just worried. And the thing is Craig; after you left… he just wasn't the same anymore, and I think what bothers everyone here most of all, is that none of us really noticed until it was too late…"

"I'm sorry…"

Craig didn't know what to say as he looked around the room, all the faces staring back at him, expecting something more than what he had said. He moved towards the door and then looked back at them.

"She said… he didn't look… he was barely recognisable…" The eyes continued to watch his as he reached for the door handle. He looked around the room one more time, looking at everything so closely. He hadn't had a chance to take it all in before, but now memories of a life that seemed so long ago were flashing back to him. He turned to look at the stairs, John Paul's room was only a few steps away, all he had to do was run up the stairs and then he would be there, a place that would take him back to a year ago.

"Do you not even care?" He heard Carmel's voice, but she wasn't looking at him now. Her voice wasn't the same as before, she sounded angry and confused. "After hearing that, after we called you all those months ago and asked you… do you just not care that John Paul is falling apart?"

"Do you think that I was Carmel? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to get on that plane, to get on with my life? You think I got to Dublin and everything was okay? It took me months to get over this… what was I supposed to do? He made his choice… and it wasn't me. Was I just supposed to sit around and let it control my life?"

"I'm not talking about then Craig, that's between you and John Paul. I'm talking about now. I mean, you're his friend right? And well none of us understand this, why he left I mean, and I think maybe you do, I'm not blaming you, but why he left its… you must know it's connected to you… I just think if anyone can help him, its you"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe that's the last thing he wants? Maybe he wanted to start over, get away from all of this?"

"Do you really believe that?"

The truth was he didn't know what to believe. There was a part of him that just wanted to walk out the door and avoid all the questions she was throwing at him. And then another part that above anything else, missed his best friend. He was worried, a worry that left him feeling sick to his stomach, and it was a feeling he had felt ever since he got the phone call from the McQueen's that day. Every now and then he would think about him, and then he would push it quickly from his mind, not allowing himself to think about it.

"What do you want me to do?"

Myra was looking at him now, the phone still held firmly in her hands. "Will you go and see him? Talk to him…"

"I don't… maybe one of you guys should…"

Myra shook her head "It won't work Craig. I know my son. And lets face it, everyone in this room knows any of us lot turning up there is more reason for him to run. He didn't want to stay here with us, he made that clear…" The tears were starting to form in her eyes now, it was then Craig saw just how altered she looked. Like she had months of sleepless nights. "At least, if you go and well… I mean if his happy there, if he has a life there now, then that's something isn't it? If his happy, that's all that matters"

Craig looked back into the room again. Mercedes looked like the only one who thought this was a bad idea; she was still glaring at Craig, questioning and untrusting. It was the first time he had ever seen the McQueen's held back, usually they would go charging in without a second thought, and now it seemed they were resigned to the only thing they thought would work. He didn't share their feelings, he wasn't sure that him turning up there was the right thing to do at all. But the want to see John Paul again was winning out, just to make sure he was okay. He had to know, not just for himself, but for the other people in the room with him.

"Okay, I'll go"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

John Paul liked the moments of quiet like this, when there was no one else in that bar just him. He had quickly convinced his boss to let him be the one to come in earlier than everyone else to set everything up, it was easy enough seeing as it gave everyone else a few more hours of time to themselves, and John Paul didn't need any more of that. He had to fill his spare time with things like this; it was the only thing that managed to stop his mind straying onto other thoughts.

He had his own routine now, everything planned out in the order he would do things, he found if he kept it like, it secured his mind from wandering even further. He felt a sense of relief at least now, knowing that Steph wouldn't be back tonight, she was gone now. Back to Hollyoaks.

It was hot again today, even hotter in the bar with none of the doors leading onto the street wide open, he pulled off the shirt he wore and threw it on the back of one of the chairs he had just pulled down from off a table. He looked down at the clothes he wore, it was always the same thing, exactly the same thing every day, jeans, white t-shirt, and he always did the same thing everyday. He turned and looked at the reflection of his face in the mirror behind the bar, the same permanent scowl fixed across it. His hair was getting even longer now, falling even more over his eyes.

He moved closer, leaning his hands against the bar, trying to look closer at his face. He looked older, too old for his age; he closed his eyes and looked down quickly. He was allowing himself to get distracted, to think over things too much. He had been doing so well before Steph's visit. He was getting on with things, doing what he had to do, but all her questions and OB's speeches were running through his mind.

He hadn't even heard the door open, he had been so lost in thought, but then it slammed loudly and he sighed heavily. He didn't realise that the time had gone so quickly, he had spent far too much time thinking and getting distracted. He knew that meant everyone would be here soon; Charlie his boss always arrived a few minutes before everyone else.

"Hey Charlie, I'm nearly done" His voice was low but loud enough to carry through to where Charlie had walked in. John Paul turned away from the bar and continued to take the chairs off the tables; he heard the footsteps behind him growing closer, but seemingly slow paces, which was unlike Charlie who was usually running around like a maniac. He sighed heavily again and turned round.

"Hi John Paul"

The truth was John Paul wasn't even surprised to be standing face to face with Craig Dean. He expected Steph would have said something to her brother, perhaps laid it on thick making things seem a lot worse, she must have done, why else would he be here? He hadn't changed at all in the year since he had last seen him, his hair was slightly longer but other than that nothing was different. He tried to read Craig's expression as he had always been so good at before, but there was something to it that he couldn't make out, perhaps it was a mix of everything, but over it all he seemed concerned and almost like he were looking at someone he didn't even know.

"Steph said you had changed…" He shook his head "She wasn't wrong was she?"

Then John Paul realised, what must he look like to Craig? Because John Paul _had_ changed. Here was Craig Dean, the spitting image of the boy he had walked away from, but John Paul was completely altered, and it was nothing like Craig had been expecting.

"Still it's good to see you"

John Paul knew Craig was waiting for him to say something, but his stubbornness wouldn't let him. Craig had come here, John Paul hadn't asked anyone for anything, so whatever he was doing here, it mean that Craig had something to say, and he wouldn't open his mouth to speak until he had said that.

So he turned away and continued to pull the chairs off the table, listening to the slow footsteps behind him as Craig followed him around.

"So this is where you've been working? Nice" There was a slight disgust to Craig's voice that made the anger rise in John Paul's chest, what right did he have to be here and be judging the way John Paul lived his life? He slammed a chair down on the floor, and moved quickly to another table, Craig still walking closely with him.

"Steph said it wasn't the greatest place, but I didn't realise it was quite…" John Paul had had enough, he threw the chair he was holding to the ground and turned to face Craig.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" His voice was loud and it echoed through the empty bar, it shocked Craig, and even himself slightly, but it didn't stop the words coming. "Is that why you came here? To look at my life and see how pathetic it is? So you can go back and congratulate yourself on a job well done of your life and know that I fucked mine up?"

"Finally he speaks. I knew all it would take was getting you angry. But perhaps we need to clear up one thing. Don't make assumptions about my life; you don't know anything about it"

He hated how calm Craig seemed, it wasn't like the Craig he knew to be like this, he had expected a reaction back, and he had expected an attack.

"Just get out. I don't want you here…" John Paul brushed past Craig and headed back over to the bar, he felt Craig's hand grab hold of his shoulder.

"Tough. I am here, and I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me"

"I don't have anything to say to you"

"Right. Look at you John Paul. What happened to you? This wasn't what was supposed to happen to you… you had a life and family and friends…"

"I'm not talking about this Craig, just leave me alone. I don't care Steph told you, you're wasting your time…"

"I'm not here because of what Steph told me. I'm here because you're family asked me to come here"

John Paul was leaning against the bar, gripping it tightly, he turned around abruptly taking in what Craig had said. "They're really worried about you, especially after what Steph said, after she said she saw you. They asked me to come here"

There was something about the way Craig was speaking; he made it sound like something he was doing against his will and against his judgement. "Why did they ask you? Why not just come here themselves now they know where I am?"

Craig shrugged "They seem to think this has something to do with me, that I can somehow be there for you like they can't… I didn't come here for me. I came here for them"

"Wow. Craig Dean not being selfish for once in his life, this is a first"

"How dare you call me selfish? You're the one who abandoned their family because you couldn't deal with things, who walked away from the all without even any idea of where you were going, leaving them all to deal with the worry of it. All the time you've been here getting on with your life and they've been scared to death of where you have been all this time. And you have the audacity to call me selfish?" Craig shook his head "I don't know why I came here. You'll never change will you John Paul? I mean looking at you now, I can barely see the resemblance of the person I knew, but inside you are exactly the same"

"Then why the hell did you come here? And getting on with my life? Barely. I left them, because they are better off Craig. They don't want me there alright?" John Paul could still feel the anger rising up higher and higher inside of him. He didn't know what bothered him more, the fact that Craig was coming here judging his life or the fact that he hadn't even come here because he wanted to, he was just here for someone else.

"I came here because I wanted to make sure you were okay" Craig was yelling now, the calm façade had faded away quickly, it was something that would most likely never change, the effect they had on one other, their harsh words always more cutting than anyone else saying them.

"Because for some weird, insane reason, I thought that perhaps you gave a shit about everyone else back there. That maybe you did need someone… to make sure you were alright. But look at you, you don't even care?"

"Is that what you think? That I don't care? Craig, all I have done is care about my family; don't you see that's what I'm doing here? I was pathetic back there, I didn't do anything, I had nothing and I didn't want them to see me like that"

Craig's face hardened as John Paul spoke, his face turning to a scowl "And whose fault is that? You think I don't see where you're going with this? You're going to blame me for the state you're in now. Well fuck you John Paul. You made you're choice, so don't you dare say that all of this is the effects of me leaving and getting on with my life. You think my heart was broken? That I wasn't in pain? But I got up everyday and I tried, I didn't run away like some pathetic boy who didn't get my own way"

There was venom hanging on every word Craig spoke, months of pent up anger falling out of his mouth as he said each of them, the volume rising in his voice as he spoke.

"_This_ is not my fault, the way you are now, you have no one but yourself to blame"

"You think I don't know that? You think I don't know that all of this is my fault? You seriously believe I've been sitting here blaming you?"

Craig's face changed suddenly, confusing sweeping across it "But what… why?"

"It was my fault. Everything was my fault" John Paul was practically screaming the words now, aiming all of it at no one but himself. He picked up a glass and through it harshly at the reflection looking back at him. "I never should have told you how I felt…" He reached for another glass off the bar, hurtling it in the same direction as before "I never should have kissed you…" Another glass, further distorting the reflection that disgusted him "…and I should never have let any of this happen" He breathed in and out deeply, his hands now resting against the bar again, his voice quieter now than before "I ruined everything and I took everyone else down with me. If I'd just shut up about my feelings for you none of this would have happened, I wouldn't have lost my best friend, and I wouldn't be here"

His breathing calmed, and he turned to look at Craig, his face wasn't angry any more, only shock and slight fear lingered behind his eyes. "You would have been better off if you had never met me Craig"


End file.
